Only OneHundred Years
by nikanak
Summary: Gabriella is a normal girl, going to a normal school with normal people. Come her sixteenth birthday, someone already has a plan set in motion for the unexpected teen. R&R.
1. The Happening

**Alright fellow Fanfictioneers, this is my very very first fanfiction. I had a whole bunch of fun writing the first chapter, and I hope that you have a fun time reading it. I put alot of effort into the first chapter, and I'm not quite sure whether or not you really care, but here it is. It's sort of a spin off the book. It has alot of similarities.**

**Anyways. Enjoy.**

Chapter One

The wad of paper landed on my desk again and I found myself rolling my green eyes, and looking back up to the board to catch the rest of the notes.

"Gabi." I wrote the notes faster upon hearing the voice. "Gabs. Gabi. Gabriell-"

"What?" I whipped around in my seat to face the annoying jerk sitting behind me. My straight dark red hair landed on my shoulder gracefully.

"Did you read my note?" he asked, expectantly.

"No," I sighed, turning back around in my seat. The teacher was deaf as well as blind, so while he didn't notice my sudden outburst, others did. I wrote down the extra notes from the teacher speech. Time passed slowly. Almost too slowly. I leaned back in my seat, and his head was next to mine.

"Read the note, Gabi," he offered again.

"Can you just leave me alone?!" I hissed, turning back around to face him, and slapping the note on his desk.

"Miss Doyle," the teacher snapped, and I whipped back around to face the angry looking professor. "Disrupting the class again?"

"Can I ask for a seat change?" my lips asked the question again, knowing the answer would be no. Why did I always get blamed?

"No, Gabriella," he walked right up to my desk. "What did you just put on Mr. James' desk?"

"No," I protested. "This time it wasn't me. This time he actually wrote it." I saw the professor pick up the paper, and open it.

"This is not Samson's handwriting, Miss Doyle," he picked up Sam's notebook to compare the note he passed and his notes from the board.

"Actually, sir, my name isn't-" Sam started, but was cut off.

"Detention, Miss Doyle," he stated.

"But. . . but. . ." I tried to defend myself.

"No buts," he snapped. "See me after class."

I turned around in my seat to glare at the brown-haired monster behind me. He gave a small shrug. I hated history.

The rest of the class went horribly, as usual. I took the rest of the notes. There was going to be a test on Friday.

The bell rang after what seemed like an eternity. I grabbed my things, and walked slowly to the old man's desk. It was almost as if he didn't even notice me standing there. I cleared my throat after a few minutes. He didn't looked up, but paperclipped a stack of his papers, and then addressed me rather bluntly.

"Miss Doyle, this is the fourth detention this week," he reminded me, as I stared down at my tan boots. They were rather dirty on the end from so much use. "I'm quite disappointed in you. Your grades seem to be impeccable, though."

"Sir, if I could just have a seat-" I started, trying to present a solution again.

"Gabriella, you're a very bright student," he said strictly. "And I'd hate to see you lose your grade over some boy."

"Yes, sir," I sighed.

"Now, I'm going to let you off the hook this time," he said, and my heart lifted. "But if this happens again, we're going to have to have a talk with your parents."

"Yes, sir," I sighed, looking back down to my dark wash skinny jeans neatly tucked into the tan boots.

"Now run off to your next class period, Miss Doyle," he shooed me away from his desk as if I were a fly. I had to miss half of my lunch period for this. My stomach gave a growl on the way out of the classroom. I needed food.

"Hey, Gabi," the voice was walking alongside me again.

"You almost got me another detention, Samuel Devonte James!" I snapped, walking over to my locker, and twisting the lock, furiously.

"Gabriella Caroline Doyle, I really didn't mean to," he said back jokingly. I hated my name. I hated it with a passion. But I hated him more.

"You always get me in trouble. First it was talking, then it was drawing on my arm, and don't forget the gum incident," I recalled the previous disasters from the past week, grabbing my messenger bag from my locker, and slinging it over my shoulder, putting in my Geometry book.

"Those were all on accident," he stated, flipping his bangs out of his eyes. It bothered me that he even had that long of hair. His icy blue eyes watched me. I seriously think that he was just waiting to see how long it would take for me to explode with anger.

"But they still happened!" I slammed my locker shut. "For once, just for once, you could take the blame!"

He was silent, and I started walking, straightening out my brown tank top and black bedazzled vest. I hated his perfect clothes. I hated how he was the soccer star. I hated how he had to have his hair perfect. I hated how he was always bugging me.

"I just stayed behind to say sorry," he stated, from behind me, and I could tell that he was trying to keep pace with me.

I was the silent one, now.

"And to say Happy Birthday," he added.

I stopped, and turned around abruptly. "You remembered my birthday?"

"That's what the note was for," he stated in an ashamed way. It almost made me want to hug him. But then I remembered all the things I hated about him.

"Well, thanks," I said, tucking my side swept bangs behind my ear rather embarrassed for getting so mad at him for trying to say happy birthday. I had almost forgotten about my own birthday.

"I was also supposed to invite you to the party your friends are throwing. Anna asked me if I could when she forgot in Biology," he stated.

"Really? Wow, thanks," I smiled, feeling myself blush. "Can you tell her that I'll be there?"

"Sure, Gabs," he smiled. "Happy Birthday! And sorry." And with that, he was taking off down the hall to his next class as I made my way to lunch.

-------------

"Mom!" I protested. "That is so unfair! I already told them that I would be there!"

"You're not going, Gabriella," she said, going back to looking over the store shelves for a certain kind of spice.

"You're not going to stop me! I'm sixteen now!" I snapped back.

"So help me, Gabriella, I will tie you to the bedpost," she snapped back at me, "Or put bars on your window, but you are not going to a party in Los Angeles in the middle of the night."

"It's totally safe, though!" I argued. "Anna's hosting it."

"Anna is a very promiscuous girl, young lady," my mother said calmly.

"Mom!" I snapped, taken aback that she had insulted my best friend since the third grade.

"Gabriella, I don't want you going and that is final," she grabbed the spice, placing it in the shopping basket, and looking back to me.

I stared at her for a good long moment before I set off down the shopping aisle.

"Gabriella! Get back here this instant!" she snapped.

"I'll walk home," I yelled back, leaving the store and stepping out into the cool evening air. At this time of day, there would normally be a sunset and a beautiful sky. But today there were clouds looming over the towers of the city.

After walking about a block or five away, I finally decided to get a cab. Walking over to the side of the street, I spotted one right off the bat.

"Taxi!" I yelled, waving my hand in the air. A dizzying feeling came over me. I could see the taxi come closer. "Taxi. Tax-"

I felt my body collapse to the ground, and my vision become a blur of black.

It felt like my head was going numb. I could feel nothing, hear nothing. It was all blank. But then a flash of brilliance, put me back into reality, or what I thought was reality.

It was the store. It was my mother in the store. But what was that next to her? It was. . . another woman? No it was a girl. She couldn't be any younger than me.

"Grace," the girl smiled a devilish smile, showing sharp teeth and awfully milky white eyes.

"I thought you were-" my mother started to say, but was cut off by the. . . beast.

"Surprise," the girl opened her arms wide as if to announce herself to my mother. I watched with fear. "Now I know I've never actually met you, but I knew your great grandmother. And she had something that I never got."

And then it all happened too fast. A wide black nothingness appeared in front of the girl-creature. A man with a familiar looking pin rushed into the scene. And lastly, my mother pulled out something sharp.

"No!" the girl gave a laud shriek, making me want to cover my ears as she darted for my mother. But it was too late. My mother had already plunged the dagger straight through her heart. She had killed herself. I tried to cover my mouth, but found I couldn't. I could only watch in horror as the girl turned to the man and . . . engulfed him in the nothingness in her arms.

And then it was all over, and I was rushed back to the bright lights, soft mist, and car horns of Los Angeles.

"Ma'am?" the cab driver was kneeling by my side as I took in deep breaths of air. "Ma'am, are you alright?" he asked again. I found my heart pounding, and my mind racing.

"Yeah, I- I'm fine," I said, as he helped me to stand, and get in the cab.

"Can you circle back around the block, please?" I asked quickly when he had got back into the driver's seat.

"Sure," he said carefully. "Are you sure you're-"

"Please just drive," I cut him off, my eyes starting to water. I was going to cry. I could tell. My eyes were lined with moisture.

I took out a few singles to try to stay calm.

When I got out in front of the store, there was already a small crowd. I gave a quick "thank you" to the driver and shoved the money in his hand. When the cool night air hit me again, I was pushing my way through the crowd.

And then I saw her body frozen on the floor, still as the grave.

She was dead.

**There's the first chapter. Read and review please. I'm hoping to update chapters about every three or four days.**


	2. Meeting Carrie

**Here's the second chapter. Enjoy!**

Chapter Two

"Miss Doyle, I understand that you are in a grieving state, but we have a uniform here," the headmistress reminded me once again. One more reason to hate this stupid Spence Academy. One more reason to hate stupid England.

My fingernails were painted black. I wore black. Overall, I looked pretty . . . well, goth. The only thing that wasn't black was my hair. But I was thinking about changing that as well, since no one else had red hair, or at least anybody that I could see.

We entered a room with a set of huge wooden doors that led to, what I assumed, was a cafeteria. There was a huge, dusty looking portrait of an older woman with a certain beauty to her. As I was soon told, that was Eugenia Spence, the founder of this lovely boarding school. As we ascended the staircase, I gave a sigh. This place wasn't looking too great right now. It was sort of… old. The air smelled of one hundred years gone by. I was told that my mothers' mothers' mothers' mother went here. That she was a shining jewel when she traveled to America to study abroad. That she was an inspiration to all girls coming here. I saw a few teachers traveling around the school, but no students. My mind wandered to where they all were, before we stopped abruptly.

"This, Miss Doyle, will be your room," the woman opened a rustic looking door to reveal an odd sight. The room, you could tell, had been refurbished. One bed lay on the far wall with dreary white bedding. The other lay nestled in the corner closest to the door. I assumed it was mine, since it had a low, stooped ceiling. Knowing me, I would most definitely hit my head in the morning. There was one bathroom which was extended after it used to be the closet. Lovely. Scattered around the room were also two full sized desks, one messy and the other untouched, two drawers, one with clothes hanging out the sides and the other empty, and a brown tack board on the wall next to the window.

"Thanks," I said drearily, and rather rudely.

"Your uniforms should be on your bed. You have three sets of school clothes, two sets of nightwear, and two sets of casual clothes. You may set up your things in the bathroom, although you may want to be careful," she warned. "Carrie doesn't take into consideration other people's space. Or other people's things for that matter."

"Alright," I said shortly, again.

"The girls are all at church," she prattled on. How many hints had I dropped that I didn't want her here. "They'll be back for dinner in an hour. Carrie will take you to the Grand Hall. Will you be needing anything else, Miss Doyle?"

"I'm good," I sighed, setting my two duffel bags on the ground near my bed with the stooped roof.

"Right," the headmistress shot a disapproving look towards me. This school was meant to teach to you to be elegant, well rounded, and was supposed to give you superior schooling. So that meant I was going to be behind in all my classes. At my old school I had been a sophomore, as I am sixteen, but they said I knew enough to be bumped up to a junior, or the equivalent of, at this school.

I sighed, sitting carefully down onto the comfy bed. Jet lag was setting in from the flight only a few hours ago.

The headmistress left after a few more sentences that I didn't catch. I hoped they weren't important. I took a look at the uniform. It wasn't as bad as I thought. Parents were able to order their children fun accessories, but I had brought my basics, and my father didn't have that much money as it was. It was basically my Aunt who was sending me here.

I hated being such a burden. I hated making my friends worry. I hated having to put my family through these separation issues. I hated that I was forced to go to this stupid school by the law. And I hated that my mother wasn't here to help me through it.

Who stayed up all through the night with me when I had appendicitis? Who told me bedtime stories and sang me lullabies when I was a kid? Who gossiped with me about friends and boys? Who stood up for me when everyone else was accusing me? Who protected me from the dangers of the world? And who sent me to this school despite everything I put her through? My mother, that's who.

I was close to tears when my pocket vibrated.

I took it out and clicked the talk button, sniffing back all my tears. "Hello?"

"Gabi, you forgot to call me sweetie, I was worried!" the relieved voice came.

"Mom?" I asked, recognizing the voice.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry," the voice told me. "It's Cath, your Aunt Cath."

"Oh," I said sadly, but recovered quickly. "Hi, Aunt Cath."

"How are you kiddo?" she asked me, and I felt my eyes water up again.

"I'm good," I lied. "Just a little tired."

"Alright, hon, just checking in on you," she said very mother-like.

"I'm fine," I said, giving another sniff.

"If you need anything just ca- Jacob Anthony! Put that down!" she stopped mid-sentence to scold her own four year old child. "Sorry, kiddo, I have to go. Love you."

"Love-" I started, but was met with the dial tone. "You," I finished, sadly now even my Aunt was ditching me. Perfect.

Maybe I could just sit here forever, and-

"Gabriella!" someone shouted happily, bursting through the door.

I looked up instinctively.

The lovely blond beauty turned her head towards me, and her face lit up. She had perfect, full lips. Her shape was something that any man would drool over, her eyes shined like one thousand and one little drops of rain, her cheeks were flushed, and her legs were flawless. She wore the uniform, but totally pulled it off.

And next thing I knew, I was being pulled into a hug by the girl.

"Gabriella," she stated in her smooth girlish British accent, "I can tell that we're going to be the very best of friends."

"I'm guessing you're Carrie?" I asked, exasperated and smiling as she let me go, to bounce over and take a few things off her desk.

"The one and only," she turned back to me and flashed a blindingly white smile.

"I'm-" I started.

"You're Gabriella Caroline Doyle," she stated for me. "You are only sixteen in a group of seventeen-year-old juniors. You are the only girl from America to ever attend this school, and you are the only girl here with red hair. You were born on April 3- we share the same birthday. Your favorite color is green. Favorite animal is a monkey. You also hate strawberries, because you are allergic to them."

Someone had done her homework.

"How did I find all this out?" she asked my question for me. "I asked the headmistress."

"Well it's good to know that she just hands out information like that," I muttered.

"It really does help if you're trying to get back at someone for something, I've heard," Carrie extended off my comment. "I never really interact with people like that, but what can you say? They're not my style."

It was then that she turned around and looked at my appearance. Black.

"Yuck," she smiled. "Let's get you into some better clothes. What did they give you?" she started sorting through my pile of clothes on the bed and pulling out the black uniform skirt and a white button up blouse.

"Put this on," she instructed.

"I don't think I'd look to good in that, Carrie," I stated. I was actually sure that it wouldn't look good.

"Just do it, and then I'll fix your hair up, and bedazzle you. You have to make a good impression," she explained to me.

"Right," I said, going into the bathroom and coming out looking horrible.

She started her work right when I got out, by rolling up my sleeves. Next she fastened a gold charm bracelet around my wrist. She handed me a pair of gold flats and a curling iron.

"Put these on and plug this in." I did what she said.

Next, she handed me my gold hoops from my bag, and a necklace.

"Why are you doing all this?" I asked. "Why are you giving me all this stuff? Like the charm bracelet, and the flats, and this necklace. You should keep these."

"First of all," she said, grabbing something else out of my bag, "That necklace is yours. I've worn that charm bracelet once, and hated it. Those flats are too small for my big feet, and you look good in gold."

"This is mine?" I asked, examining the necklace.

"This fell off of it," she handed me a crinkled up note that I immediately started to read.

_Gabriella,_

_This may not seem like much, but it is the only thing that I have left for you._

_If you're reading this then I'm probably gone._

_Wear this necklace and keep me close. I'll always have you in my heart._

_I love you more than words could ever explain,_

_G_

I felt tears poke at my eyes again.

"Oh no," Carrie unplugged the curling iron quickly, and ran over, embracing me. "I'm so sorry. What's wrong, Gabriella?"

"It's nothing, really," I assured her.

"Bah," she hugged me tighter. "Tell me."

"Really, I'm fine," I told her, slipping on the necklace. "It's just- this was from my mother."

"I'm so sorry," she let me go to stare at my eyes. The tears were done threatening, and were bottled back in for some other day.

"You can call me Gabi, by the way," I told her. "It's a lot shorter."

"Alright, Gabi," she smiled, and looked over to the clock. "Time to go."

I slipped on the flats quickly, and put on the necklace proudly as she dragged me out the door. We stopped in the hall again, and she turned to me, fixing my hair, and tucking my bangs behind my ear.

"Perfect," she smiled, and tugged my arm down the stairs. When we reached the bottom, I was out of breath. It was going to take a while to keep up with this girl.

We stopped right outside the wooden doors I had seen earlier. I could hear the noise of a whole bunch of girls talking, laughing, and gossiping. I tried to take a step back, but Carrie held me firmly in place.

"Let's go," she let out an excited huff, and I put on a shy smile.

Time to embrace the future.

**Gosh, that was short. Sorry. The next one _will _be longer. I promise. R&R!**


	3. It's Wasn't my Fault

**Sorry it's taken me forever to post! Please forgive me. But Merry Christmas and A Happy New Year! Read and Review!**

"Oh God."

"It really wasn't that bad, Gabi," she tried to reassure me as I buried my face deeper in the pillow. I sat curled up in one of the many chairs in the sitting room. "I mean, you only tripped once."

"I broke that girl's nose!" I moaned into the pillow, making my voice barely audible.

"That wasn't your fault!" she snapped at me. "That girl totally had it coming to her. If I were to pick one girl in the entire school whose nose to break, I would have picked that bi-"

"Look," an icy cold voice came from behind my chair, and I curled deeper into the comfy sofa. I knew the voice all to well from the screaming at the dinner table. "It's creepy Carrie."

I saw Carrie roll her eyes and look back to me, reassuringly.

"Oh," the girl piped up, and peeked around the chair so that her face was literally inches away from my own in a menacing manor. "And her little sidekick, the Klutz."

"I really didn't-" I started.

"Save it!" she snapped, staring me straight in the eye. "I'm not the one that you're hurting here."

I raised my eyebrows, looking over to Carrie and back to the girl in front of me. I could see the damage that I had inflicted on her beautiful face. I could tell that she was PO-ed and that she held grudges.

I heard Carrie struggling to hold in laughter, and saw the girl stand straight up and glare at the tittering girl.

"Shut up! You know what I meant!" she snapped at poor Carrie.

"No, really. What did, you mean?" she asked sarcastically, and raised a delicate eyebrow.

"Come on, Jaella," one of the broken nosed girls' friends said. "She's not worth your time."

And after a few seconds they walked away, heels clacking. Why they would even want to wear heels was beyond me.

I looked to Carrie, who stared back at me for a few seconds before bursting out into laughter.

"Carrie, this isn't funny!" I whined.

"You. Don't. Know. How. Hilarious. This. Really. Is," Carrie gasped between laughs.

"I basically just ruined my social life," I said trying to bite back a smile. Despite how serious and awful a situation this was, it was hard trying not to smile. Smiling was just so me. . . at least it was before the accident.

"Come on, Gabi" Carrie whined. "I thought that you said we were going to have fun today."

"I am having fun," I gave a small fake smile.

"I see right through that," Carrie snapped. "Please just try to have fun. Did you see all the people that were just laughing at Jaella!? She broke her nose!"

I looked around, and a few of the girls still giggled, and stared after Jaella and her posse. I really hadn't meant to do anything, but it seemed that I was getting more popular by the minute, for a senior walked up to me.

"Nice job, new girl," she laughed, and then looked down to Carrie. "Hey, C.C."

"Hey Bella," Carrie smiled. They both saluted to each other and burst out into another fit of laughter. I couldn't help but smiling. They obviously knew each other. It's not like I was going to be Carrie's _only_ friend here.

"I'm Isabella Chanton," the senior turned back to me, holding out her hand and wearing a huge smile. It wasn't as big or goofy a smile as Carrie, but it was pretty close. I shook her hand and let my full smile break through.

"Gabriella Doyle," I introduced myself.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Bella stated squeezing sitting on the armrest of the chair I was occupying. Was this usually where she sat? I was tempted to move.

Isabella looked rather plain. She had brunette wavy hair, and small brown eyes. Her nose and mouth were perfectly aligned and I found myself envying all of the lovely British girls around me.

My examination was interrupted abruptly. "So I heard you punched Jay in the nose after she insulted you," Bella said excitedly.

Carrie fell onto the floor in laughter.

I took a breath and explained. "Not really," I turned a bright red. "She was just standing behind me, and I turned around to look and. . ." I took another breath looking to the ground where Carrie was recovering from her laugh attack. ". . . and I kind of slipped and knocked her into the lunch table."

"Bloody brilliant," Bella congratulated.

"I didn't mean to," I looked back up, feeling another pang of guilt.

"She is going to make your life hell for the next few weeks," Bella stated. "But don't worry, I think I'm in a few of your classes, yeah?"

"Maybe, I don't know," I shrugged. "Maybe art and history. . ."

"I'm looking forward to it," Bella turned back to Carrie, now back to sitting on her footrest and taking deep breaths to settle herself.

"Way to kick off the new semester," Carrie laughed.


	4. Daydreams

I felt something kicked the back of my chair and was startled awake. How could I have been dreaming of _him_? Seriously, Sam?

"Miss Doyle?" the sharp British accent cut through her like a knife, slicing the dream out of my working mind and cramming in a new image of fear into the hole that was left. "Can you tell us the answer please?"

"Cleopatra?" I answered, meekly, shrinking down in my desk.

"Wrong," she stated, and turned around to little-miss-goody-two-shoes. "Can you tell us the _correct_ answer?" Now he was even getting me in trouble from God knows how far it is. Great. I hated history.

Jay smirked in my direction. "Queen Elizabeth," she stated, still looking straight at me. Her nose still had a bandage on it. She had refused to take it off, saying that if she had her nose wouldn't heal properly. So now, her voice took on an even more nasally tone.

Instead of laughing at her for the bandage, I decided to hide behind my oddly colored hair.

And the class went on, Jay answered almost all of the questions. I slumped further into my desk until I was sure that I would fall off the chair if I so much as breathed.

And then the bell rang.

Finally, school was out. Bella rushed up to me, giving me a worried look.

"Are you alright? What's wrong? Should I get the nurse?" she bombarded me with questions, hooking her arm through mine and dragging me out of the classroom. When we were about four hallways down, Bella smiled.

"I'm. . . fine," I answered slowly. "Why?"

"I don't think that you really wanted to spend any more time than necessary with the beast," she smirked.

"Oh," I said after what felt like an hour. "Thanks for watching my back."

She only nodded as we started walking again, now down a spiraling staircase.

"Me and Carrie were going to have some tea in the study," Bella stated after we reached the bottom of the stairs. "Care to join us?"

"I'm not really a tea type of girl," I said, making a face. "I was just going to walk around the grounds for a while. See what's around here." I looked outside. The sun shone in through the large pieces of glass, and I found myself drinking it in.

"You alright?" Bella asked, and I was snapped out of my daydream. Those seemed to be unusually common now a day. "For a second there, I could swear that you were glowing." Her beautiful face was twisted into a mask of confusion, horror, and wonder.

"People don't glow, Bel," I laughed, walking towards the doors. "I'll be outside if you need me."

"Don't go too far," she called after me. "There are dangerous things in those woods."

I ignored the warning. I wondered what would happen if I ran away. Run away from this school, from this life. Just run. So I did. I ran into the forest. I ran about a half a mile before stopping. How was I going to find my way back? The sky shone a bright orange. The sun was setting. How was I going to get back home now?

"Great job, Gabi." Was I really talking to myself? This was pitiful. "Now we'll never get back, and we're going to starve out here."

"What happened to you?" I heard a familiar male voice. But it was different, now. It was British.

"Sam!?" I whipped around, looking for the face to the voice.

There was no answer. I wasn't going crazy, was I?

My eyes saw something move in the trees. The familiar scent of a woman only a month ago with me lingered on the trees. "Mom?" I asked the forest. I could see her face, her smile, her hair as red as mine! And then she sprinted into the trees. "Mom!" I sprinted after her as far as I could. I was getting more and more lost by the minute.

Something stopped me, though. Well, I sort of ran into something. No, someone. The male figure whipped around to face me quickly, hand on a holster by his pocket. Sam!

I couldn't even talk. What was Sam doing here? Maybe I was going insane. He was so different. Yet so much a reminder of the past that I could not undo. So much of a reminder of the words I never got to say to my mother. A reminder of the life I wanted back. I felt a tear slip down my cheek. Since he was most likely only out of my imagination, I felt no embarrassment at my weakness.

"What are you doing here!?" he yelled at me. Why was my imagination being so mean? And why was his voice British. The Sam I knew wasn't British. England was playing horrible games with my head. "You shouldn't be here!"

"I shouldn't be here!" I yelled back. "I'm not the one who should be in school halfway across the world right now!"

He was silent for a few seconds as I crossed my arms across my chest, taking a step back.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked, seriously.

"Not in the slightest," I answered, brushing my hair away from my face and resuming my position. "You're not even real."

And he laughed. My imagination was laughing at me. I felt rather insulted. He was my imagination, right?

My fingers acted of their own accord, reaching out and pinching his arm.

"Hey!" he looked up confused at me. "What was that for?"

"_Are _you real?" I asked, looking around the trees. Had my mother been real, too?

His face turned serious as he looked me over. "Gabi, don't get involved in anything, okay?" he stated. "Do not follow the light."

"What? I'm not dieing, Sam," I laughed, overjoyed and slightly creeped out that this actually was Sam standing in front of me. And it was Sam making jokes non-the-less.

"You'll know what I mean soon enough," he said darkly.

"You're not the Sam I remember," I said softly. "What do you mean?" I was sure that he was real. Sure enough, at least. Sam didn't act like this though. A thought struck me. Sam wasn't a violent person either. He didn't carry around a gun or knife or what ever the hell was in that holster.

I took a step back. "Who are you?" I snapped. "I'll scream, I swear I will."

"People change, Gabi," Sam's eyes grew cold. Those lovely warm eyes froze over. And now they watched me. "Sometimes not for the better."

"You're the complete opposite of who I knew back home!" I said, louder now, backing up as he walked towards me. "People don't change that much." I looked him over one last time before racing through the trees, my hair quickly falling out of its once neat ponytail.

"Gabi!" Sam was chasing me. And pushed myself faster, but my foot soon found something to trip on. The ground raced toward me.

When I didn't feel the impact, I started to yell. A hand came down on my mouth, and I realized that when that hand came down, I dropped a little towards the ground I had almost hit. Someone had caught me? Sam had caught me. I struggled to push the stranger away. I did not know this Sam.

"You don't breathe a word of this to anyone," he threatened.

I bit him and struggled some more.

"Think about it, Gabi," Sam held his hand firmly in place, "Which one of us will get in more trouble for being out in the middle of the woods while they're supposed to be at church?"

I stopped, now majorly panicking. Was he stalking me?

"Not a word," he hissed again, before letting me go.

And I was gone, running away to wherever I could. After what seemed like hours I saw the large castle of a school in front of me again.

No more sunny day adventures for me. Not while I was here at least.


End file.
